


on the head of a pin

by kirael



Series: cracks to put their love into [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Pining, its mostly pining, like 10 percent space, mentioned death, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8591344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirael/pseuds/kirael
Summary: The long journey towards each other.(in which Thomas and James slowly inch towards accepting their feelings)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i did a thing!

Dolley is the first person James Madison sees after landing home. She's practically glowing, dark hair rolling in waves down to her hips, bright eyes shining, her face round and flushed.

"James!" she cries out when she sees him. She runs forward and envelops him in a hug.

It's warm. Soft. By the time she lets go, there are tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. He blinks quickly, trying to get rid of them.

Dolley looks around, and her smile falls slightly. "Where's Tom?" she asks. Her hand rests on James's arm.

Here's the thing: when they were rescued, Thomas refused to go with James.

"Then where will you go?" James asks.

Jefferson shrugs. "Monticello," he says. "Maybe elsewhere. I'm thinking of going with Lafayette to his estates."

"We have a government to build," James says.

"I know," Jefferson says. "I might come back, eventually."

James doesn't like the way "eventually" sounds, but he smiles and nods anyway, encourages him in all his endeavors, shakes his hand goodbye as Jefferson boards a ship with Lafayette.

"He went to France with Lafayette," James says to Dolley. A puzzled expression replaces her previous elation.

"I don't understand either," James says, resigned. "We won the war. And yet - and yet he refuses to come home and do his duty. He's one of the smartest we have."

When he's finished, he lifts his eyes to see Dolley barely suppressing her laughter. "You're overthinking it again," she says, seeing James's completely bewildred expression. She holds up her hand. "Here's the facts: Governor Jefferson, head of the Virginia, is captured while escaping. Thomas Jefferson is brought to a prison ship and tortured for information. Everyone except for him and a group of others on the prison ship are killed in a freak accident." As she speaks, she lists off each of the events on her fingers. Her nails are neatly clipped for practicality. "He's stuck on the prison ship for months on end with only his best friend and a bunch of near-strangers as company. Don't you think he might want to get away from anything that might remind him of that?"

"Lafayette," James says stubbornly.

Dolley shoves him lightly. "He's going to a completely different place, you acorn. It's not that he wants to get away from you, gosh, just everything else. He'll come home when he's ready."

James nods, not quite believing but not wanting to bother Dolley any further.

"Now come on," Dolley says, "Payne’s grown up so much since you've been gone."

* * *

 

James waits for Jefferson in Monticello on the day he's due to come back. While he waits, he rewatches their short hologram communications they'd sent back-and-forth to each other in the last few years. There's hundreds of them, and as he speeds through all of them he watches the way Jefferson changes from the gaunt, anxious figure he'd been at the beginning to the far more flamboyant and confident form he harbors now.

_Incoming message._

James stares at the latest text from Jefferson. Two words, short and succinct: _I'm home._

He meets Jefferson at the door.

When he remembers that moment later, he'll mostly remember the feel of Thomas's lips on his: plush and soft, slightly chapped, warm, gentle even as Thomas's beard scrapes over his skin. Reckless. Irresponsible. Breathtaking.

Jefferson jerks and pulls back just as James starts to sink into it.

James stares at Jefferson. "Sorry," he says, but Jefferson shakes his head, smiling.

"That's quite a welcome," Jefferson says, laughing.

"Yeah," James says. "Welcome home. It's been a while." 

"Years," Jefferson says, slipping off his jacket and hanging it on the coat hook. He looks back at James, his eyes sharp and bright. "You alright? You look a little tired."

James shrugs off his concern. "I just spent the last few days anxiously awaiting your return. You think I'm not tired?" He doesn't mention how he's spent the last few years doing the same thing.

Jefferson laughs.

James watches the way his eyes crinkle at the edges, the song-soft way his laughter echos through the room. God, it's been so long, and James feels every breath he takes settling deep in his lungs, heavy, weighing him down. He wants to kiss him again. James laughs along with him.

"How was France?" James asks.

"Fantastic," Jefferson says, grinning, his eyes shining with memories. "But I'm not here for France. Tell me what's up with Hamilton and Washington and John. The juicy stuff. Not the stuff I've been seeing as news." He leans forward on his cane (when did he get a cane? James doesn't remember, and it breaks his heart) to listen.

James takes a deep breath and tells him.

* * *

 

"Fucking Hamilton," Jefferson growls, pacing the room angrily.

"Calm down," James says. "I thought you two were friends."

"We were," Jefferson says. "And then his dumbass policy ideas got in the way. I can't be friends with someone like that."

"You slept together," James points out.

Jefferson physically flinches, stopping straight in his tracks and directing a glare at James. "I wish you didn't phrase it like that. We slept in the same bed. Once. Seven years ago. Because I was...having a bad day and he was the only one up. It's not like we had sex or anything."

James stands up. "I don't think you should equate sex to closeness." (Because where does that leave him?)

Jefferson huffs and stares at the screen taking up the entirety of the wall. On it, he watches as Washington and some of his his top officials - Henry Knox, Nathanael Greene, and Abigail Adams - talk about their latest initiatives for software and AI regulation.

James isn't really listening, though he knows he should. There's a flower tattooed on Adams's left hand, the black ink standing out against her paler skin, it's vines and tendrils snaking up her wrist and arm, ending before it reaches her elbow. He knows for a fact that John has a matching one on his shoulder and back. Washington looks tired, but James honestly doesn't remember the last time he hasn't.

"We believe," Adams says, "that our plan will be allow the safe progression of technology." James watches the way her teeth shine and her lips curl into a razor sharp smile. He can see why John loves her so much.

Jefferson turns back to James. "This is a horrible idea," he says bitterly, hands clenched tightly on the fabric of his jacket.

James laughs, his own hands bunching in the pockets of his trousers. He feels cold; he thinks he's coming down with something. The laugh turns into a cough.

Jefferson's eyes widen, and he steps forward before stopping absorbedly. "James," he says, "are you sick?"

God, he hopes not. James shakes his head. "I'm fine."

Jefferson steps forward again. "James," he repeats. "You've just been to Sector PA19102. They're having a weird outbreak over there. If you're feeling sick, you need to go see a doctor."

"I'm fine!" James snaps. He notes, distantly, the way Jefferson steps back now, hurt flashing briefly in his eyes, his hands held in front of him, as if he's trying to push James away.

"Sorry," Jefferson says, though he sounds the opposite. His eyes dart to the side. James doesn't bother following his gaze. "I should go," Jefferson says. "I'll call you." Before James can speaks, he exits in a flourish of bright purple and magenta.

* * *

 

Turns out James is sick. He doesn't want to think. He lays in bed, his head throbbing, Dolley hovering over him.

Dolley rolls her eyes when she finds out. "I told you so," she says smugly. "You know how your immune system is. And still, you insist on going to disease infected areas. Do you think it's your T cells? James, I know you're busy but you should get some implants for that."

"I know," James groans. He ignores the pinch in his arm as the research-bot takes his blood; it's not like he can feel much over the pain in the rest of his body. He closes his eyes.

Dolley sighs and moves so that she's sitting on the side James's bed. "I'll be going in an hour or so," she says. "Betsey has Payne with her and she's busy enough with her work and the other kids. He'll drive her mad."

James musters up enough energy to smile. He makes a sound he hopes comes out as a noise of acknowledgement and sympathy.

"Is Tom coming around?" Dolley asks. "I heard you two got in a bit of a tiff."

"It wasn't a tiff!" James exclaims, then immediately regrets the statement as his head complains at him loudly by throbbing in pain. He can feel Dolley's disappointment even with his eyes shut.

"Whatever you say," she says. When James doesn't reply, she changes the subject: "About our latest deal with France - I spoke to John Jay about it and he had a very interesting argument for the compromises we had to make."

James tries to focus on her words.

* * *

 

While James is sick, Jefferson doesn't visit him. He tries not to take it personally, tries not to let the fact drive into his heart and wind its tendrils around his lungs, squeezing until he can barely breathe. It doesn't work.

* * *

James, he regrets to admit, has forgotten about Theodosia. And yet there she is, standing before him, Aaron Burr on her arm, little Theodosia Jr. by their side.

"Mr. Madison," she acknowledges with a knowing smile and a nod. She's cut her hair short, down to the scalp, sometime in the last few years.

James forces a smile onto his face. "Mrs. Prevost. Congratulations on your continued marital success with Burr."

She laughs. "No need to be so formal, James." She gives Burr a look, and he takes Theodosia Jr.'s hand and leads her away. She turns back to James, her eyes shining with amusement. "We should catch up," she says. "Come with me." She takes his arm and leads him to a quiet corner, away from the hundreds of people gathered to publicly raise charity money and privately work out the last details of a massive trade treaty.

James looks her over. She stands straighter and taller than she did last time he saw her, her eyes brighter, her voice steadier and her figure more filled out. She's practically glowing.

"I go by Theo these days," she says. Her smile exposes her teeth: bright white. "It's been an interesting few years. I suppose for you moreso."

James shrugs. "I guess," he says. "I'm just doing some government work. Nothing too big."

Theo raises her eyebrows, skeptical. "Don't think me ignorant," she says. "Don't think I can't tell that you're the one pulling all the strings behind Jefferson's successes. Besides, Aaron loves going on and on about his work."

Huh. That's different. James never knew Burr to be the kind of man who would overshare. And he doesn't even want to think about the other topic she had mentioned. "What have you been doing?" he asks in a desperate attempt to change the topic.

Theo doesn't look impressed at his blatant transparency, but she answers anyway. "To quote yourself, 'Nothing too big.' I've moved to AI work. I've traveled some. I've written a book. I've had a child. Nothing as big as helping to haggle your way to gaining a largely uninhabited but resource-rich star system."

James suddenly feels like he's walking through a field of pins disguised as blades of grass: innocent at first look, disastrous after stepping in the wrong place. He coughs once.

"I lectured you, once," Theo says, "on Jefferson." She pushes him straight into the spikes. She shakes her head, oddly disappointed.

James doesn't understand why she cares. "You were wrong," he says. "There's nothing." He doesn't even believe himself.

Theo smiles. It's soft and gentle, nothing like the joyful grin she'd held before. "I've been through a lot, James," she says. "Don't think me ignorant."

He doesn't. Not at all.

"James!" Jefferson jogs up to the two of them. "I've been looking for you all over the place," he says, panting. He turns his look to Theo. "Mrs. Prevost!" he exclaims. "It's good to see you. I apologize for not speaking to you earlier, and I must apologize again for taking Mr. Madison away."

Theo, gracious as always, lowers her head as a sign of acknowledgement and says, "No need, Mr. Jefferson. You must contact me in the future though."

"Of course," Jefferson says. He tugs at James's arm. "If you'll excuse us."

James leaves with Jefferson. He can't get Theo's smile at of his head.

* * *

 

Jefferson panics, sometimes. "There's too much," he had confided once, half-asleep and fully drunk, "and I can't take it. It's overwhelming. I don't know how to describe it. I can't. I don't know."

"Thomas," James says. He squats on the floor next to his friend's trembling form. 

Thomas lifts his head to look at James. His eyes are bloodshot, focused on somewhere past James's head. Somewhere else.

"Thomas," James repeats. "Thomas, can you hear me?" He's terrified himself, not knowing what caused this or exactly how to help Thomas, but he tries to keep himself composed anyway. He’s tried, countless times, to pry into Thomas’s mind, figure out the exact causes, but Thomas has, countless times, turned him away.

Thomas shakes his head.

James places a hand on the door when he hears a noise outside. It won't help to have anyone barge in while Thomas is like this.

Thomas jerks at the sudden movement, his hands scrabbling at the floor.

"Thomas," James says again, "listen to my voice, okay?" He lowers his voice so Thomas will have to focus in order to hear him. "I was talking to Dolley yesterday. Her son - John Payne Todd, remember him? - he turned 19 a few months ago. He left home this week. Dolley's a little worried for him. He's never been far from home. Speaking of children, Hamilton's boy - Philip - he got into the same university Hamilton went to. They say he's just like his father, which - hah - might not be a good thing. You've met him, haven't you? Got a temper and a mouth just like his father. Angelica Jr. is much sweeter though. She's a genius with the piano. She played during our last event, remember?"

Thomas makes a small noise. James stops talking and examines him closely. His breathing is slow and more regular, his hands relaxed. There's still some tension in his shoulders, but he's not shaking anymore.

"Thomas?" James asks.

"Yeah," Thomas replies. "Thanks."

James feels a wave of relief washing over him. "No problem."

Jefferson gets up, slowly, avoiding James's eyes. He wipes his tears on his sleeve and leaves without saying another word.

James feels like he's drowning.

* * *

 

Every time James brings it up, Jefferson laughs and not-so-subtly changes the topic. James can't help but feel hurt.

* * *

 

It's early morning when James's house alerts him of a visitor. He stumbles to the door, half-asleep, only to find Jefferson there.

James blinks at him, brain not quite able to catch up. "Um," he says. He's never seen Jefferson like this. His hair is a mess, his usually careful eloquent facade replaced by comfortable pyjamas and sleepy-eyed blurriness.

James moves aside so that Jefferson can shuffle in. "What's wrong?" he asks.

Jefferson turns to look at him. His eyes are wide and vaguely terrified. "Can I sleep with you?"

That pours a bucket of cold water over James's head. "What?" he asks.

"Is it okay if I sleep in the bed with you?" Thomas asks, ignoring the question. "I don't think I can fall asleep otherwise."

"Wait, Thomas, what?" James splutters. It's too early, he's too tired, he has no idea what's happening.

Thomas pushes past him, going into his room. James has no choice but to follow.

Thomas sits at the edge of the bed. "I just got the news," he says. "Polly's dead." His face is carefully blank.

Oh god. James sits carefully next to Thomas. "Thomas," he says, "what're you feeling?"

"Nothing much," Thomas replies. "I'm just really tired." He sprawls out across the bed, curling up on his side.

James watches the slow rise and fall of Thomas's chest. He lays down next to Thomas. It's a while before he falls asleep.

In the morning, he wakes up with their legs tangled together, surrounded by Thomas's warmth. He breathes it in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes:  
> 1\. PA19102 is Pennsylvania and then one of Philadelphia's zipcodes. It's a reference to the Yellow Fever epidemic there in 1793.
> 
> 2\. Dolley Madison is great.
> 
> 3\. If she could, Abigail Adams totally would've taken over the world.


	2. Chapter 2

James never would have expected this to become a regular thing between them. He wakes up regularly to the sound of Thomas's soft, sleepy snuffling or to Thomas not-so-sneakily trying to get up. He can't help but feel his stomach turn and his heart ache every morning.

“Jemmy,” Thomas mutters one morning when James gets up to go eat breakfast.

James freezes. He hasn’t heard that name in ages, not since Thomas came home from France. It rests well on Thomas’s tongue. “Thomas?” he asks, hesitant.

Thomas’s eyes are still closed. “Stay?” he asks. “Just for a bit?”

James can't help but oblige.

* * *

 

It happens in a series of mistakes.

1\. Thomas starts yelling at Hamilton in the middle of a dinner party.

2\. Hamilton starts yelling back.

3\. James tries to rein Thomas in. It doesn't work.

4\. John Adams ends up standing up and telling both of them to stop screaming or he'll throw them out, damn any consequences.

5\. Hamilton snidely remarks that John Adams doesn't have any actual authority anyway.

6\. Abigail Adams smugly and subtly insults both of them.

7\. Thomas and Hamilton start screaming again, this time directed at her.

8\. Thomas and Hamilton are kicked out.

9\. James follows him.

10\. "Thomas," James says, "why are you incapable of acting civil toward Hamilton?"

Thomas shakes his head. He's shaking. With anger, James hopes.

"I hate him," Thomas says bitterly. "The way he just waltzes in here and acts like he fucking owns the place. The little bastard doesn't think. He only knows how to talk." He's shaking more violently now, with anger or with passion or all that and more.

"Thomas," James says. "Calm down. It's going to be fine. Your plans are clearly more sensible than Hamilton's. Washington isn't dumb enough to listen to Hamilton."

Jefferson takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he reopens them, they're shining, dark and beautiful. He smiles. "Thanks, Jemmy."

11\. Somewhere between here and there, Thomas kisses James.

James's eyes grow wide and shocked but he doesn't pull away. He doesn't dare.

James is just starting to register what's happening when Thomas closes his eyes and sinks into the kiss, stilling and relaxing into James's body.

They come up for air, eventually, resurfacing quietly, their eyes wide and softened.

Thomas speaks first. "Was that okay?" he asks.

Instead of replying, James leans in recaptures Thomas's lips with his own. It feels like coming home, settling into a nest of soft silk and down. It feels right.

* * *

 

Dolley Payne closes the call with James and opens up another.

When the person on the other side answers, she takes a deep breath and speaks.

"I knew it," she says smugly.

Theo's voice echoes throughout the room.

"So did I," she says, "though you pushed it for far longer."

Dolley laughs. "So, lunch?"

"Lunch," Theo confirms. "I'll see you later." She cancels the call. 

Dolley leans back in her chair and debates asking Theo to bring some snacks. Maybe chocolate. Maybe some cookies. Considering all she's done, she deserves it.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos give me life ilu <3
> 
> talk to me at my tumblr: [duckmoles](http://duckmoles.tumblr.com)


End file.
